


Dead to Rights

by Killer_x



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: American Sign Language, BAMF Nora Allen, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Ghost!Nora Allen, Nora Allen: adopter of supervillians, Past Child Abuse, Seer!Mick Rory, accidental family acquisition, actual backstory for Nora, actual character for Nora
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9193775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killer_x/pseuds/Killer_x
Summary: Give me a Nora Allen who refused to be anybody's tragic backstory. Give me a woman who was more than a wife, and more than a mother. Give me someone real.





	1. Chapter 1

Nora Allen was, as we are constantly reminded, a mother. I’m not denying that she was seemingly brilliant at it, imparting sage-like wisdom to her young prodigy. But she had to be more than that, didn’t she? By simple virtue of being alive? How many hours did she spend, pacing in front of a mirror, perfecting those words?

Give me a Nora Allen with a childhood of blood and tears, who pulled herself up and swore she’d be better. Give me a girl with wildfire in her eyes and ice in her heart learning to trust again. Learning that closeness, that comfort, didn’t have to hurt. Give me a woman who finds her passion, who studies, and procrastinates, and parties with the best of them, eyeing the handsome pre-med student across the room. Whose friends heckle and bicker but always come through in a pinch, who taught her kindness and compassion was its own sort of strength.

Let her be broken, let her be flawed. Let her watch B-movie horror flicks in the dead of night with naught but a blanket, lamplight flickering as the shadows grow. Let her read sci-fi novels, and crappy romances for a lark, and peruse comic long boxes for that one back issue missing from her collection.

Maybe she paints her nails, as she reads books on nuclear physics because ‘ _it’s interesting, damn it’_ , even if it doesn’t always make sense. Maybe she breaks down once a week, cradling her child to her chest, ‘ _I can’t do this Henry’_ , and he holds her as she cries and rages, but it’s alright because they’re getting better, _they’re getting better._ Maybe he tisks at her broken hand and she glowers through the pain because ‘ _that fucker deserved it’,_ and he smiles, ‘cos she’s stubborn and he’s so, _so_ _proud._

I want a Nora Allen who died but didn’t cease, grappled her spirit from her corpse laughing because her son was a _superhero!_ Then flinched because, _‘oh_ **shit** _. Her **son**_. _Her sweet, impossible child_. _Was a **superhero**_. _And she’d been benched. No, even worse. She’d been **fridged.** ’_

I want a Nora Allen with hearth-fire in her eyes, and fractals in her heart who snarled at the system that put her husband in jail, and tore her son from his father. Who never quite forgave Joe West, but loved him fiercely all the same, because Barry was safe, and almost happy, and that was so much more important than a man in lightning.

I want a Nora Allen who took to her ghost-hood with that same bitter pride she took to everything else, who didn’t stop to question the why’s and how’s, because they were irrelevant. All that mattered, was that someone, somewhere, had given her a chance. _And by God, was she gonna take it._

 

Xxx

Being dead was a lot like being alive. Well, it wasn’t like that at all actually, seeing as she couldn’t do much of anything. She tried to scream, once, only once. Tried to weep, mourn for what had been lost. Turns out the movies lied. Spirits have no vocal cords. No body. She had form, yes, but it was a memory. An illusion only there because she believed it so.

No, being dead was a lot like being young. Like some vengeful god had turned back the clock, to that same scared child who huddled in corners and learnt to make herself unseen. Now, however, invisibility was not her **_wish_** _._ That didn’t mean it would _stop her._

 

Xxx

The first few years, she guarded. Watched her treasures with careful precision of the single-minded. She was possessive, in her death, in a way she never had to be when she simply _was._ She could no longer touch, no longer claim her connection in the ways the living understood. In the ways the living _respected._

Though she could no more raise Barry, than prove her husband’s innocence, she stayed by their sides regardless. She liked to thinks it helped.

 

Xxx

She learned, early on, how to concentrate on one or the other. Instantaneous travel. _Brilliant._

She tried once focusing on the man…on the _thing_ that killed her. Not for herself, of course, but for answers. For _family._ It didn’t take, and she told herself she was disappointed. It did raise a question, though. What were the _perimeters_ of what she could do? And how far could she take it?

 

Xxx

They say it ten thousands hours to become proficient, to become an expert. Lucky for her, she never seemed to tire. People she’s close to are the easiest. Barry and Henry, Joe and Iris. Places she’s been time and time again. She can’t go somewhere unknown, can’t follow someone on whose life she had no bearing.

But that doesn’t stop her from _walking_ straight through a door, travelling great distances by the longer path. It doesn’t matter when she went, she can return to where she’s been.

With the living it’s different. There has to be a connection. They have to _know her_ , as she was, or as she is, and know her well. Perhaps she was just a blip on her murderers mind. _Because she still can’t find him._

Xxx

It was Joe she followed, on the day she found the seer. He was young, at least to her, barely late twenties as far as she could tell, dragged between two officers as he snarled and spat, hands cuffed behind him. She was forty-one when she died. Funny to think, in the intervening, she hadn’t aged at all.

She was curious, and she was bored, so she followed to the interrogation room, where they left him to stew. Somehow, he was handcuffed to the table, one of the officers carrying a new shiner, a fitting match to the bruises on the kid’s arms.

Joe may have been her friend, but it’s times like this that made her childhood distrust of authority had to shake. There was resignation behind the anger in the kid’s eyes. His gaze seemed almost determined not to waver, so many times it seemed so close to shifting, to glancing in her direction. To glancing _at her._ Could he **_see_** her?

She thought it a mistake, of course. Wishful thinking of an addled mind. Wanting to be known for _who she was_ , instead of the idolised version that seemed to dwell in people’s memories. The human mind was such a _funny_ thing.

So she waved, timid in a way she’d never been in life. His gaze slipped, from her, to the camera high on the wall, than back to the mirror, behind which the vultures were no doubt lurking. _Of course._ He wouldn’t be able to speak to her. Not here in this glorified cage.

She could be patient, though. Five years, what was a bit longer?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn't expecting the ghost.

His fingers itched. Another successful heist with Lenny in the forefront and they were once again rolling in dough. It didn’t help, it never helped, as proven by the tightening in his chest. Something needed to **_burn_** , but it was dark, and it was late, and Len would kill him for disappearing again when they should be lying low.

He debated with himself, but the flames won out. They always did, even when Lenny pulled his ultimatums. He’d learned, they both had that there was nothing for it. So he disappeared, silent as a thief in the night. He’d had _practice_.

It was all going so _well_ until he got caught. Captured by the flames, and collared by the cops. Stupid. They’d want to use him to get to Leonard Snart, notorious thief. Everyone _knew_ Mick was just the muscle.

He wasn’t expecting the ghost. Well, that wasn’t quite true, it was a _police station_ , these things attracted spirits of the not-quite departed. But she followed him _before_ she realised he could see.

She looked familiar, in that distant seen-your-eulogy way, that probably meant her death had been well-publicised. In other words, upper-middle class, gruesome crime scene, and probably something stupid like ‘ _loving wife, caring mother’_ slapped across her gravestone ‘cos there was no one left who gave enough of a shit to remember who she _was._

Contrary to belief, the dead did not mind being forgotten. What they hated was being stereotyped and shoved into a little box so that those who remained could say their piece about how they would be _missed_ , and here’s what they would _want_ , and weren’t they _so great_ in their **_societal_ fucking _role_** _?_ He’d maybe gotten a few rants over the years.

 

xxx

As he waited in holding he wished, not for the first time, that ghosts could speak. ASL was not a skill many died with, and it took _months_ to teach a new spirit how to use their hands. Some learned quick, some not at all, the biases of life carrying over into what could either be a very brief or very long existence.

Even when they did learn, they didn’t always appreciate _him._ He was thief, a killer, and a pyromaniac to boot. Who in their right mind would want _that_ as their guide. It didn’t stop him from trying. He did what he could, anything more than that was on them.

This lady seemed to _care_ , though about what remained a mystery. She glared at the bruising on his arms, rubbing her fist as it clenched, useless as vapour. Her anger had been palatable as he was _escorted_ from the interrogation room, where, _of course_ , he gave them nothing. She smirked at the pig with the icepack to his face, and glanced in the direction of one distracted by paperwork in the far corner. It seemed like she expected him to step in. He didn’t and she frowned, but Mick wasn’t disappointed. It’s not like a _badge_ would help _him._ Not in the way he needed them to.

 

Xxx

Len broke him out on the way to Iron Heights. He was cold, which meant he was furious, but not so much as to leave his partner to rot. “ _You should have told me”,_ is what he said, five cars and two state-lines over.

He grunted, tapped his thigh in the way that meant they weren’t quite alone, and tried not to worry as Lenny’s knuckles tightened on the wheel.

 

Xxx

The ghost, _Nora Allen_ , took to ASL with the single-minded determination of a woman with something to prove. She was _quiet_ , in-between practice. Looked at him the way Lenny did when he was casing a joint. Smart. It wasn’t that she was slow to trust, but she was careful onto whom she bestowed her secrets.

 

Xxx

As the months went by, he saw her less and less. It wasn’t unusual, he knew enough of her personality to be confident that she could return. _If she so wished_. They all feared, initially, that if they left his side they might not be able to find their way back. Because of this, he often had a better grip of who they were as people, than those they’d left behind. Some resented that. _Nora_ …did not seem to.

 

Xxx

He was worried about Lenny. His partner never did well when Mick revealed the presence of a spirit. They both had too many secrets, too many memories associated with all-seeing eyes. Len hated jumping at corners, hated when his hypervigilance once again took root, because of a foe he _could not detect_.

Nora noticed. It was rare for them to notice.

“ _Could you…relay a message for me?”_ She asked, her hands fluid and confident in motions that had previously been so foreign.

“Hey Lenny, ghost’s gotta message for ya.”

His partner glanced up from the book he’d been pretending to read for the last hour, smirking hard and flat, without the spark that belonged in those intelligent eyes. He looked so tired.

“Then by all means.” He drawled, but even that was stiff and unused, tinged with the edge of fever.

 _“I won’t say I’m sorry because I’m not. There were things I needed to learn, and things that must be done. Both can only be accomplished if I spend an inopportune amount of time_ here. _I’ve achieved one of them, thanks to Mick. But in the process…”_ she sighed, rubbing her nose between thumb and forefinger.

 _“I have no doubt you learned everything there was to know, the instant you learned my name. It’s what I would have done. Information is a weapon, it always has been. So I can tell you're worried, about what_ I _know._ ”

Len’s smirk is fixed. “Oh? And what would that be?”

 _“Enough. Too much, perhaps. But secrets are not the problem, what is, is that I, an unknown quantity have free reign on a place that’s meant to be_ safe _. Empty promises are useless here, so I propose a trade.”_ She paused, closed her eyes as if trying to gain her courage.

Len’s eyes gleamed, but his tone was nonchalant. “And what could you possibly have to offer?”

She smiled, teeth bared. _“My name is Nora Allen, and I was murdered by a man in a yellow suit. He was faster than the speed of sound, red lightning trailing when he ran. It was not me he intended to kill, it was my son. I don’t know for sure why, but I suspect._

_“My husband was sent to prison, my son to live with Detective Joe West. He was the arresting officer, so I suppose that’s a bit fucked. He was also a friend. I trust him with Barry, or I would be raising hell._

_“Barry saw the man that killed me. It haunts him because no one will believe. I_ know _he’s still out there. I know he’s going to hurt my child, and I will not allow that. I’m going to need help.”_

Mick knew that look. Len was plotting.

“That’s not everything.”

_“No. It’s not.”_

 

Xxx

Three days later, Len came back with Lisa.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a mother of four wasn't easy. Especially when you're dead, and three of them are criminals.

Lisa Snart was brilliant, and broken, and so, so deadly. Nora fell in love the first time she kicked a guy in the nuts.

_“You. You are my child now.”_

Mick caught her eye, and she nodded. If this girl dies, the world would burn. And it would be _glorious._

It was the first time she saw Lenny smile.

 

Xxx

Being a mother of four wasn’t easy. Especially when you’re dead, and three of them are criminals.

_“Enjoy your heist, dear. Don’t get caught. Again.”_

Len’s right eye ticked. “That was one time…”

_“And you had faulty intel, and a useless lookout, I know. I’m allowed to worry, Len. Besides, Lisa’s performance is coming up, and she needs her big brother in the crowd.”_

He smirked, already in game mode. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

Xxx

_“Mick. When was the last time you burned something.”_

“I’m fine.”

_“You’re clearly not. Lenny said you almost botched a job last night, and you hand is shaking_. _I think you need to see a shrink again.”_

He grunted. “Shrink’s useless.”

_“Maybe, but I’ll scour for the best one in the city, and we’ll hold them at gunpoint if we have to.”_

“An’ Barry?”

_“Barry’s not my only son.”_

 

Xxx

They snuck into the back of Barry’s high school graduation.

_“You don’t have to…”_

Mick snorted.

_“…thank you.”_

Barry Allen took to the stage, scarlet and beaming.

Lisa squealed. “Our brother’s _adorable!_ ”

“Our _brother_ wants to be a CSI.”

She shoved him. “Come off it Lenny, you’re proud of the do-gooder.”

Her perfect, broken family. Nora beamed, wishing she could cry. Some things deserved tears.

 

Xxx

Iris had forgotten. They had to know her, and know her well, and seven years was a long time. That wasn’t the problem. She wasn’t going to begrudge a young woman moving on from the trauma of her youth, and luckily, ‘ _Miss West_ ’ was always easy to find.

Or perhaps not so lucky. Because there were cameras. In the house, in the precinct, probably in the goddamn school. She’d found them while searching for her surrogate niece.

They were everywhere. And she was terrified.

How long had they been there? Why hadn’t she noticed? _Was it her killer?_ Was he _stalking_ her son? Her son, and everyone close to him. What if they’d seen Mick, Len and Lisa at Barry’s graduation? If he _hurt_ her children…

 

Xxx

She couldn’t risk them, so her birth-son’s next milestone was a more sombre affair. And so what if he won a phone in a competition he never entered. Or a free dinner at his favourite restaurant. These things happen, after all.

She side-eyed Mick, trying to hide her smile.

“What? Kid got a job offer straight out of uni. ‘s impressive, that’s all.”

_“And that wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the illegal fireworks display? Or that hundred he ‘mysteriously’ found on the street?”_

He grimaced. “Wasn’t meant to hand it in.”

“ _He’s got a lot of Henry in him. That’s what’ll make him a hero.”_

 

Xxx

S.T.A.R labs was working on something called a ‘particle accelerator’. It sounded _fascinating_. It wasn’t due to be completed for a few years, but hey, what’s the point of ghost-hood if you don’t use it to get the inside scoop every once in a while.

 

Xxx

There was something wrong with Harrison Wells.

 

Xxx

Harrison Wells from the future. _(Her son was called the Flash)_

Xxx

Harrison Wells killed her. _(Harrison Wells was dead)_

Xxx

The man pretending to be Harrison Wells killed her. He had a yellow suit. He’d lost connection to something called the speed force. He was trying to get home.

 

Xxx

The man pretending to be Harrison Wells was destroying a young man. Piece by piece.

 

Xxx

_“Len? What’s everything you know about Hartley Rathaway.”_

Xxx

Mick got burned. Len ran. Lisa’s lost, she doesn’t know where to turn. _(She’s in the wind)_

 

Xxx

Barry meets the Arrow. _(Be careful, please be careful)_

Xxx

When the accelerator explodes she’s with Mick, and she’s angry, so angry, because she couldn’t slap them on their ears and make them see sense. Couldn’t drag Len back to his brother in all but name. Can’t comfort Lisa that, _no_ , her family’s not falling apart, _she won’t **let it**_.

Then Barry’s in a coma. He was struck by lightning. _(Oh. And so it begins)_

 

Xxx

Barry’s coding. _(He’ll be fine. **He has to be** )_

Xxx

He’s taken to S.T.A.R labs. _(You can’t trust him. Don’t trust him)_

Xxx

Hartley’s gone. Cisco’s here, Caitlin’s here, Ronnie’s dead. And still Barry sleeps. _(How long?)_

Xxx

Mick’s cold. _(His flames are dying)_

 

Xxx

Len’s brittle. So sharp. _(So cutting)_

 

Xxx

Lisa put’s on her pretty smile. _(Her pretty mask)_

 

Xxx

Her family’s shattered. She has no voice. _(How **long?** )_

Xxx

Her son’s awake. Her son’s a speedster. His mentor is the man that almost killed him.

 

Xxx

Joe doesn’t want Iris to know. Say’s it’s for her _safety_. _(Foolish. She’s already involved)_

Xxx

Barry’s hypoglycemic. He needs to be more careful. _(He needs his siblings)_

Xxx

There’s a _private prison_. In the _basement_. She wants to scream.

 

Xxx

Iris is in love. It’s beautiful, and fragile, and new. It’s just not with Barry. Iris is happy, and her son is hurting, and she doesn’t know how to feel.

Relationships are built on trust. _(What happens when that breaks?)_

Xxx

She can’t take it anymore. Her stupid, perfect family was wallowing in guilt, each too prideful to make the first move. To apologise. To reconcile.

_“I’m initiating Code Red.”_

Mick’s eyes widened. Code Red was the endgame. They were bringing Barry _home._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It shouldn't be so hard to pick up a phone.

He wasn’t the sort of man to get nervous. Or at least, he shouldn’t have been. But there was something about the simple act of picking up a phone. Something _daunting_. So he typed in the numbers, willed his hands not to shake. His teeth clenched as the line connected.

_“ **Hello?** ”_

His throat was too tight. He swallowed a few times in a feeble attempt to gain his bearings.

_“ **Look, if this is a-** ”_

“It’s me, Lenny”

“ **… _Mick?_ ” **And his partner’s voice sounded all wrong. Breathy and strangled, and not all like the Leonard Snart he knew.

“We’re initiating Code Red.”

_“ **Is Scarlet-?** ”_

“He’s fine.” He glanced up at Nora’s determined gaze. She was biting her lip. “But not for much longer.”

_“ **Hey, Mick**?”_

“Yeah?”

**_“…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”_ **

He closed his eyes, smile fractured. “Right back at ya, partner.”

 

Xxx

Lisa crashed the meet in all her avenging glory, a pout on her face and mischief in her eyes.

“ _What_ , I don’t get an invite?”

Mick was moving before she even crossed the room. When he hugged her she was startled, but gripped back strong as anything, leaning into his touch as if starved. “Missed ya, Lisey.”

“ _Missed you too, Mick._ Now, what’s this about baby bro in trouble?”

Len smirked. “Not to worry sis, _Mum’s_ got a plan.”

 

Xxx

The bar was a run-down, mostly empty, OH&S _nightmare_. It certainly wasn’t the place one would expect to find the disowned heir of a multi-million dollar corporation. Whatever else, Hartley Rathaway was _smart._

“You’re that tech genius, yeah?”

The kid snorted, nursing his drink in an effort to appear nonchalant. His back was stiff.

“Who wants to know?” He groused, eyeing Mick side-long with something akin to suspicion.

He grunted, indicated to the barkeep for two pints of whatever, and downed the first without pause.

“Think you can get past anything Harrison Wells set up?”

Hartley’s eyes flashed, the grip of his hand turning white as it clenched around the glass.

“I want nothing to do with _that man._ ”

When Mick grinned it was dark with promise. “Pity. ‘cos I’ve got a friend who want to destroy him.”

 

Xxx

Breaking into S.T.A.R labs was laughably easy. They were in and out with two minutes to spare, something that caused Lenny to grumble ‘bout ‘ _shoddy security’_ and ‘ _wonder the kid’s still alive’._ Mick wasn’t particular happy either, but his main concern was the threat _within_ the walls. At least Ramon was smart enough to be distrustful. Because they now had weapons they could _use._

 

Xxx

The first time Len met their baby brother, _Captain Cold_ derailed a train. It went like this:

 

Lenny had been casing a score called the Kahndaq Dynasty Diamond, which was, like all diamonds, a worthless hunk of rock. In the process he’d managed to ‘accidently’ garner the attention of budding CSI Barry Allen, and by extension, the superhero known as ‘The Streak’.

 

Everyone agreed on two things. One, that ‘The Streak’ was a horrible name, with awful connotations, that didn’t belong within twelve feet of their ‘ _adorkable baby brother’_ , Lisa’s words, not his, and damn Iris West for coining it. And two, if they wanted the plan to succeed, Len should go it solo. After all, Lenny would make a great supervillain. They forgot, of course, that all great supervillains are _dramatic little shits._

“ _Lenny_ ”, said Mick over the newly fashioned coms, in a tone that loosely translated to ‘ _What the fuck’._ Blowing up a train had _not_ part of the plan, though in Len’s defence he _had_ made Hartley run simulations until they were sure everyone could survive it. It turned out at his current speeds, Flash (his real name according to Nora) was more than capable of rescuing all the passengers of the wayward vehicle, however his exhaustion became prominent ‘round about the time Lenny pulled the gun.

 

He _did not_ shoot him, because Len was dramatic, not stupid, and a direct hit from the cold gun could cause severe frostbite, which Scarlet did _not_ deserve, not least because he was a doe-eyed puppy dog in human form. What he _did_ do was activate the cold field Hart had ingeniously added when they explained why a non-lethal method was necessary.

 

Oddly enough, they trusted Hartley. Not completely, and not with everything, but Nora had vetted the kid personally during her three-year stake out of S.T.A.R and found him to be extremely reliable, if a little full of himself.

 

_“Hart’s had a rough time of it these last few years. He deserves his revenge.”_

It might have helped that said revenge aligned perfectly with their goals.

 

_“ **Pretty fast, kid. But not fast enough.”**_

Mick rolled his eyes to heaven. His life- officially a comic book. He tuned out as the ‘witty banter’ portion of the evening began. Watched from the camera’s hidden in Len’s parka, and tried to ignore all the _fucking puns._ Lenny and his puns, _God-_ damn _._

 

That was about the point Cisco Ramon showed up with a vacuum cleaner.

“ ** _Drop it._** ”

Mick groaned. “We’re doomed. The world is doomed.”

_“…That’s a vacuum cleaner.”_

“Yup.”

_“The people protecting my son, are threatening Lenny…with a vacuum cleaner.”_

“Yu-p”

Nora sighed, rubbing her temples and pretending not to smile. _“You’re right. We are doomed.”_

 

Unfortunately, he zoned in at the words “ ** _…Captain Cold.”_** He sighed, because if he knew Lenny, and he did, then his partner was _never letting this go._

 

And so, Death by cold puns, it shall be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The day Lisa was old enough to have an interest in shiny, Mick sat her down for the talk. The De Beers international monopoly talk.  
> Don't buy diamonds kids, they're intrinsically worthless.


	5. Chapter 5

General Eiling was going to be a problem. He was exactly the sort of man to take advantage of the meta-human phenomenon. To _capture_ , and _control_ , and turn into _weapons_. For the good of the _country_. The kind of man who used patriotism as an _excuse_ to dehumanise those he considered lesser. Like her son.

The worst of it though, more than the fear, or the anger, was the nagging doubt in herself. Because she _agreed_ with fake Wells on this. It would be so much _easier_ if Eiling was dead. Dead and gone, with his influence forgotten. But she was wise enough to guess the reality. Someone would take his place, and if he were martyred that would be dangerous. She’d read the X-men. She knew the kind of future that followed.

 

Xxx

Her son was an idiot. She’s starting to suspect that maybe he didn’t really know Iris at all if he couldn’t see how dedicated she is to this. How driven. How _desperate._

_“Lisa? Initiate Operation Albatross.”_

Her niece deserved the truth, and Joe had no right to keep it from her. Perhaps she would have respected his wishes, were Iris not an extremely resourceful twenty-five year old woman, in terrible danger precisely _because_ she was being deceived.

Iris was clever. She _knew_ behind ‘The Streak’ lay all the answers, and she was relentless because she had _no reason to stop searching._ She was also an accomplished investigator, proficient liar, and most important, completely trustworthy. They’d need her onside if the plan was to succeed.

 

Xxx

Ideally, Lisa would meet with Iris a few times, prove herself trustworthy before introducing the rest of the family. But they were running out of _time_ , what with General Eiling, and fake Wells, and the death of Bette Sans Souci _in Barry’s arms._ Before _exploding._ Honestly, by the end of this every single kid of hers was getting therapy. Hell, _she_ needed therapy _._ And she was _dead._

The other problem? The more immediate one? Thanks to Barry and Joe pushing _precisely_ the wrong buttons, Iris’s blog was no longer anonymous. Her name. On the internet. For all the world to see. To make matters worse, Barry met with her. _In the Flash suit._

Nora sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, because this was _disastrous_. There’s a large difference between keeping a loved one _safe_ , and isolating her. Painting neon target on her back for any lowlife, any _fool_ aiming a cheap shot a glory. Everyone now knew _Iris West_ was the key to the Flash.

Len’s brow furrowed, mind running through calculations and adjustments to their grand _scheme_. It would work, it had to work.

“It’ll be fine, _Mum_ , we’ve accounted for _everything_.” She glanced at Len, wry smirk playing on his lips. His sightline was slightly to her left, and not for the first time she wished he could see her. Wished she could _touch_ and comfort in the ways a mother should. In the ways they comfort _her_.

She smiled. _“Now don’t get too cocky, dear. Your brother’s not quite so…”_ She paused, searching for the right word. _“...logical.”_

His lips twitched, exasperated and fond. Barry had a bad habit of _running_ off script. He huffed a laugh. “We all know Scarlet rarely thinks things through.”

Mick snorted at the understatement. “Kid needs to be more careful.”

“Kid needs a _plan_ , Mick. And luckily for him, we’ve got one.”

 

Xxx

Step one was to engineer a conversation, away from all the cameras, and the prying eyes of the police department. It couldn’t be anywhere Iris felt _safe_ , not really. Her regular haunts were all too closely guarded by those who wished Nora’s family harm, and _that_ , of course, was out of the question.

So they took the rom-com route, the kind with a ‘chance’ meeting and clumsy antics as coffee flies everywhere.

“Oh god, I’m _soo_ sorry,” cries Lisa, heaving her cousin to her feet. “I swear it’s my brother’s fault. He just won’t stop texting me, see?!” As if on cue, her phones buzzes, and Iris chuckles at the caption.

“It’s another cold pun isn’t it?” She turns the screen to face her and groans. “He is, the _worst._ ”

“I don’t know. He seems pretty _chill_ to me,” says Iris, eyes gleaming as her lips curl in a shark-like grin. Nora smirks. Yep, she’ll fit right.

Lisa’s eyes widen, and she gasps at the betrayal, hand flying to her forehead “They said it’d end like this, but I didn’t believe them. And now, even you have forsaken me.” She sniffles and Iris laughs.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist. But I could buy you another coffee…?”

“I’d love to.” She holds out a hand, grinning. “It’s Lisa, by the way.”

“Iris.” She returns the handshake. “Now normally I’d go to Jitters, but I suppose it’s a bit far from here. Any ideas?”

“Hmm. I’ll text Mick. He always knows the _best_ places.”

She pulls out her phone, and Iris _smirks._ “Boyfriend?”

“ _Pfft,_ no. More like older brother. He and Lenny were basically inseparable as kids, so Mick was around a lot. Eventually we got him to stay.”

Iris’s smile dims. “Must be nice.”

Lisa pauses, glancing up with a worried frown. “You okay?”

She shakes her head. “Sorry. Just reminds me of my brother. He’s adopted, and we’ve been best friends like, forever, but recently. It’s like he’s been pulling away, and I just. Sorry, I don’t mean to dump this on you.”

“It fine. I can’t count the number of times Lenny pulled away for something stupid like my _protection_. Honestly, how someone so smart can act _so.._. _Argh_ , it used to drive me insane. But he got over it. Sometimes you just have to beat some sense into them, cos us girls? We’ll rule this world someday.”

Iris laughs. “We’d have to beat the ‘Streak’ first.”

She smiles, eyes bright. “Nah. You and me? He doesn’t stand a chance.”


	6. Chapter 6

‘ _Their cousin was at least twenty percent spite_ ’ Mick mused, watching her expression turn from betrayal, to anger, to a shark-like _smirk_ that rivalled Lenny on his best days.

Lisa cackled. “You’re out of a job, brother mine. We’ve got ourselves a _better_ supervillain.”

Len frowns, but his eyes are sparkling. _“Train-wreck._ Scarlet’s _mine._ And I _will_ defeat him.”

Somehow Iris smirked wider. And then she _laughed_ , mad and unhinged, as if she’d been practicing.

Nora wiped a pretend tear away from her eyes. _“I’ve never been more proud. They grow up. So fast.”_

Mick snorted. Six words. Six little words had brought them here.

‘ _Do you believe in the impossible?’_

Xxx

Iris West was in their safe house. _Iris West_ , the cop’s daughter who sought out danger like a moth to a flame. _Iris West,_ the woman who trusted her heart, and her morals, more than any societal laws. _Iris West,_ the confidant, the niece, the best friend. _The girl who_ **forgot.**

“So this is my brother Lenny, you _know…_ ” She gestures at her phone and Iris’s eyes light in recognition.

“ _Oh_ , the cold puns. I remember.”

Len shakes her hand, shooting Lisa a superior look. “See Lis, _someone_ appreciates-”

“They’re bloody terrible,” Mick interrupts, ignoring Len’s glare. “Don’t know what Nor was thinking.”

_“Nor?”_ asks Iris, in a tone of polite curiosity. Lisey’s smile slips.

“ _Mick…”_ But he’s always been blunt, and time’s no longer a luxury they can afford. So he looks Iris West, their baby brother’s salvation, straight in the eyes, and repeats the words that Nora Allen told him.

 

 

Xxx

In a completely predictable turn of events, Iris was kidnapped. Having said that, she was about as prepared as she could be, having both Len and her cop boyfriend on speed dial, and a tazer and pepper spray hidden away in her purse.

By the time Flash arrived on the scene, his childhood bully was unconscious.

_“ **Wha- How?** ” _could be heard through the phone on loudspeaker, as they all tried not to snicker.

“Steel conducts…electricity?” says Iris, all sheepish and smug, still angry at being underestimated. Tony Woodward saw her as a woman first, and a writer second. She never registered as a threat.

 

 

Xxx

By the time Nora returns from her rounds, she’s furious, flickering the way spirits do when their emotions run wild.

“ _Nor?”_ He rumbles, and he’s worried. He’s _seen_ ghosts lose themselves, when they give in to anger or hatred. He’s seen them dissipate, vanish as if never there when they lose their grip on form and reality.

He can’t let that happen, not to _her._

_“…Mum?”_ She startles.

“ _Mick? That the first time you’ve-”_ A smile plays at the edge of her lip, but her _eyes_.

“What happened.” She’s never been like this, not even in the year that-

_“Get your brother. Family meeting.”_

 

 

Xxx

_“He’s made his move.”_ Her fists are clenching, gaze shifting between Lisa, Lenny, Hart, and Mick himself. _“Joe was investigating my murder, getting too close and-”_ She closes her eyes, taking deep ‘breathes’ to steady her useless lungs.

_“He threatened_ Iris. _”_

“He _what._ ” Oh and _there’s_ that anger Mick had seen in Nora, and he _understands_ it now. The others stare in confusion, and belatedly he realised he forgot to translate.

“The speedster threatened Blossom.” It’d been a joke, the nickname, they always were. Lisa said their cousin would rule the world someday.

_‘Commander and leader: Iris West.’_ All would bow before.

He stood abruptly. _“Len,”_ He said in that tone, and his partner _knew._

“There’s a place downtown,” he said as he scrambled for the keys.

“On the hook, Lenny.” Lisa’s eyes were worried. “Don’t get caught.”

Len smirked. “Us? _Never._ ”

But Mick’s mind was already on the flames.

 

 

Xxx

There’s a power drain in the city. It’s a meta-human, because _of course_ it is. Normal threats are above and beyond these days. More than that, it’s a meta-human with a grudge against _Wells_ , which they’re fine with. If only their little brother wasn’t such a _hero._

_“He’s lost his powers.”_ She sighed, pinching her nose again.

“Permanent?”

_“Shouldn’t be. Not with_ his _vested interest. But if…”_

She bites her lip, looks him square in the eye. _“Promise me you’ll look after him.”_

He starts as she begins to flicker. His eyes widen. “Temporal Paradox. _You think..?_ ”

_“If Barry. If the Flash never goes back…”_ She smiles, sad and worn. _“You know I love you.”_

“Don’t.” His voice is gruff as he spits out the word. He’d never been good with emotion. “You’re not leaving Nor. Not before we see this through.”

Her smile twists, open her mouth to-

“Mick, Nora!” calls Hartley in a panic, plans and blueprints flying everywhere. “There’s a hold-up at the police station. They’ve got _Iris._ ”

 

 

Xxx

“ ** _Clock King_** ,” growls Len, teeth clenched. They’re huddled around the hacked security feed, picture dark and grainy due to limited power. Hart may be genius, but a back-up generator only goes so far. On screen there’s at least two officers down, one of whom is definitely dead. None of them care much for the lives of pigs, but it’s a bad sign for the hostages.

On the other screen, S.T.A.R labs wasn’t doing much better. ‘Blackout’ was already in the facility, advanced security proving useless as ever. Mick’s starting to think it was intentional.

In an effort to buy time, _Dr Wells_ had let ‘Girder’ free.

_“That’s the thing I hate most,”_ Nora snarled, hand movements’ jerky. _“The way he uses people as weapons. All to defend his **pretty** lies.” _ She laughs, silent and mocking.

_“And he’s so **good** at tying up loose ends.”_

Mick’s ears ring with his cousin’s screams. Eddie Thawne had been shot.

**Author's Note:**

> I began this because I am sick of how determined the writers are to throw this woman in the refrigerator. It sad when a character's wiki page is about someone else's life.


End file.
